(Sung in honor of Rikki-tikki-tavi)
- Singer and tailor am I—
- Doubled the joys that I know—
- Proud of my lilt to the sky,
- Proud of the house that I sew—
- Over and under, so weave I my music—so weave I the house that I sew.
- Sing to your fledglings again,
- Mother, oh lift up your head!
- Evil that plagued us is slain,
- Death in the garden lies dead.
- Terror that hid in the roses is impotent—flung on the dung-hill and dead!
- Who has delivered us, who?
- Tell me his nest and his name.
- Rikki, the valiant, the true,
- Tikki, with eyeballs of flame,
- Rikk-tikki-tikki, the ivory-fanged, the hunter with eyeballs of flame!
- Give him the Thanks of the Birds,
- Bowing with tail feathers spread!
- Praise him with nightingale words—
- Nay, I will praise him instead.
- Hear! I will sing you the praise of the bottle-tailed
- Rikki, with eyeballs of red!
(Here Rikki-tikki interrupted, and the rest of the song is lost.)
- --oOo-- -